


With All the Trimmings

by Kahika



Series: Relay Monument Incident [8]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, First Christmas, Friendship, Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahika/pseuds/Kahika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Twas a <i>Normandy</i> Christmas, and in Starboard Obs,<br/>Teaching Garrus about it became Ashley's job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With All the Trimmings

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! As you can probably guess, this was intended as a Christmas fic, but then like most things in this series it got away from me in a major way, and holiday parties ate me (and continue to eat me tbh), and I didn't finish in time.
> 
> It's a huge jump on from ["White Flag"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4697447) (starting after Rannoch) and not canon for this universe, mostly because I don't feel like sitting down and figuring out from Cerberus News reports when in the year the events of ME3 fall and a bit because there's a part that contradicts something I'm toying with for later on. If you want to skip to the next part of the main storyline, you can go right on ahead to [_Operational Security_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5865088).
> 
> Slight liberty taken with a scanned War Asset.
> 
> Title courtesy of my friend Xan!
> 
> August 2017 edit: [Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLj3DfYiRo4_5udXRwEWv9TyQHfJYGfTyE) of my preferred versions of the songs used as section titles!

> **The First Noel**

When Garrus enters Ashley's room, he doesn't expect music to be playing (the rare times she does listen to music, either it's on ear piece or it's _his_ music in a rapid transit), and nor does he expect her to be framing her window with some sort of vegetation.

He especially doesn't expect the... horns? or whatever it is she's wearing on her head, and the shiny metallic garland over her shoulder.

"Are you finally personalizing your quarters?" he asks, making his way past the sofas, also piled with unrecognizable items, and some new crates.

She turns around smiling, then wraps the garland around his cowl and uses it to draw him in closer before kissing him, and really, he's never going to complain about kissing. When they shift into a headbutt instead, she keeps a hold of the garland, her hands on his chest.

"I know we agreed we'd try a little bondage, but sparkly wasn't really what I was picturing, and I don't think that's going to hold either of us," he says.

Ashley bursts out laughing, but shakes her head. "This isn't for sex; it's for Christmas."

His translator ignores the word, but it sounds faintly familiar. He takes a moment to try and place it, and then confidently says, "We're going shopping."

She stares at him. "What?"

"Christmas is the human festival towards the end of the Terran Coordinated year, celebrated with retail sales and vacation time," he says. At least, sale signs and human coworkers asking for time off have always been his understanding of it. "And as much as I'd love to go on vacation with you, this really isn't the time."

"Oh my god," she says. "You don't know about Christmas!"

"Yes, I do," he says blankly. He just proved it!

"Oh, Garrus," she says, and kisses him on the nose. "You're with a human now, and one who actually believes in the religious side of it too, so you're going to learn _all_ about it."

"Cultural exchange," he says, not quite as enthused as he has been about other parts of human ("Puerto Rican" "American" "Colombian" "what _are_ you?" "look, we're very mixed, okay") culture. From the way she said it, it sounds like a lot, and her religion has been confusing enough already.

"It's my favorite holiday," she says, drawing back and rifling through one of the piles of... stuff (she leaves the garland hanging around his cowl). "And I got you something early."

She comes up with a red hat with white fluffy trim and a white ball at the end, and after gesturing for him to turn around, fits it over his fringe. After turning him around again, she examines her handiwork, and declares, "Perfect."

"What is this, exactly?" he asks, and then adds, "I understand the concept of hats," before she thinks she has to explain.

"I've _seen_ turians wearing hats; that's how I knew to put it on your fringe," she says, rolling her eyes over a grin. "This is a Santa hat."

Something to look up later. For now, he reaches up to stroke her horn things. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"A reindeer." She pauses, and then says, "Earth animal."

He flattens the two brown bits to her skull, letting the ends stick out past her head like a fringe. "Now you look like a turian. A _male_ turian, but still."

For a moment, she looks contemplative, and he wonders if he's overstepped the boundaries of her comfort with loving a turian, and then she simply asks, "How do I look?"

"Cuter than any male turian," he says, and she grins, but he adds, "Which is pretty easy, seeing as I'm not into men."

She laughs, and scoops up more of the vegetation. "You're taller than me. Help me decorate. I'll start explaining as we go."

It's plastic, he discovers, as she hands it over to him and points out where she wants it to hang, which explains how it's not going to die on the ship.

"So," she says, producing a small artificial tree from one of the crates. "Christmas is when we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ."

" _The_ Jesus Christ?" he asks, just to make sure there aren't two major figures with the same name.

"Yes," she says. "And can I just say I'm still uncomfortable with the parallels you drew with Him to Shepard?"

"Look, I've been thinking about this more, and not only did Shepard rise from the dead and save my life, but apparently you also denied her three times," he says. She makes a face. "Just checking."

She's told him before about Jesus being the son of God, but when she tells him he was born to a virgin, for some reason it's not the science that comes to mind.

"Wouldn't that have made their marriage easier to annul?" Ashley raises her eyebrows, and he adds, "I've been reading up on human marriage laws." And then ended up staring baffled at their historical marriage laws. Humans are so weird.

Her expression goes complicated, and he remembers why he hasn't admitted that before. Eventually, she asks, "Do I want to know why?"

He hesitates, and then lies, "Just curious."

For a moment, she simply looks at him, and he thanks the spirit of the _Normandy_ that his alien affections didn't go to a Prothean or an asari who could read his mind and find out he's been thinking about proposing.

"I guess they had their reasons," she finally says, and hands him something shiny to hang from the ceiling. "The Bible doesn't exactly go into the details of their sex life."

"Why is it even important?" he asks, hanging it up, and promptly wishes her ceiling was higher, because he's definitely going to hit his head on it until he takes it down. "I want to know if Joseph was a virgin. The double standard is dumb."

She smiles, and kisses his cheek before continuing. A census that requires citizens to return to their birthplace seems wildly impractical to him, and he tells her so. His translator initially parses _shepherds_ as _Shepards_ and doesn't bother to translate it, confusing him for a moment, and then _that_ explanation leads to a brief overview of Earth animals, with pictures supplied by the extranet.

By the time she gets to the baby born in a stable with shepherds, angels, and wise men ("wise in what?" "I don't know" "were these male human versions of Sha'ira, or -" " _Garrus!_ ") looking on, her quarters are transformed: That shiny garland she calls tinsel is hung along her shelves, the fake tree is covered in baubles and replaces the lamp on one of her little desks, and tiny colored lights and more sparkly things hang from the ceiling. Samara, he thinks fondly, with her minimalist approach to interior decorating, would hate it. He's going to be ducking for a month, and he gives it a few days before all the colors make his head hurt, but Ashley looks so happy with it all that he knows he's not going to say anything about it.

"The main way that we celebrate - and that'd be why you saw all the sales in stores - is by giving presents to our loved ones," she says, which sounds nice. "It's a holiday about giving, and family. Families try to get together and have a meal together, although I haven't managed since I enlisted. My family's religious, so we have prayers at people's houses on the nights leading up to Christmas, and then we go to church on Christmas Eve. Sometimes the bases we lived near would put on a carol singalong night - oh, carols are the traditional songs, like what I'm playing here."

Well, he's definitely going to look up the music later, but something earlier in her list had caught his attention too: "Are the presents for any gender in particular?"

"Uh, no, for everyone," Ashley says, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Oh, Kasumi was trying to explain Valentines Day and White Day to us once," he says. Calling it a holiday about giving had reminded him of the conversation, which despite himself (it had been after he'd seen Ashley on the Citadel), he'd left wondering... "Hey, uh, what kind of chocolate do you like?"

She gives him a bemused look, but obliges him with, "Dark chocolate with oolong tea."

"Okay," he says, and then: "Sorry. Christmas."

"That was the religious origin," she says. "The main one, anyway - Christianity kind of folded in a lot of pagan celebrations' traditions, like how Javik tells me the Protheans added to their empire. Make the minority traditions part of the dominant celebration, and then they'll fold." She shrugs. "Wanna learn the fun story now?"

He eyes the remaining crates, wondering if this story will come with more sparkly things. "Are you decorating anywhere else on the ship?"

Ashley shakes her head. "James called dibs on my leftovers for his little base, but I'm only doing my room. Not all humans celebrate it. Off the top of my head, Traynor, Private Campbell, and Engineer Adams don't, and there's probably more. I don't want to force it on everyone."

"Just on me," he teases, but she frowns, her eyes going soft and hurt.

"I want to share it with you because I want you to understand where I'm coming from, even if you don't believe in it yourself. It's a big thing in my family, and I want you to be a part of that."

His translator doesn't clarify whether she wants him to be a part of Christmas or her family, making him envy the ambiguities of English. Either way, she's starting to retreat, so he catches her by the shoulder.

"Hey, come here," he says, wrapping his arms around her. Tilting her chin up with one talon, he rests his forehead against hers. "I was kidding. I'm touched that you wanted to share it with me - I like learning more about your life."

"Sure?"

"Always," he says, and brushes his mouthplates against her lips. "I want to celebrate Apien festivals with you, too."

She smiles, dropping the defensiveness. "I'd like that," she says. "When's the next one?"

"Four Galactic Standard months," he says. "Although they'll probably revive an old one when we win the war."

Her smile goes a little wistful, and he wonders if - _when_ \- she'll believe there will be life after the war.

"But for now," he says, leading her back to a clear spot on one of the couches and sitting her down. "What's the fun Christmas story?"

She brightens, adjusting his hat. "It's about presents! I know in some countries he had a religious origin at some point - they called him Saint Nicholas - but most people don't think of him as particularly related to the religion. We know him as Santa Claus..."

> **Santa Claus is Coming to Town**

Tali pokes at the ball on his Santa hat as he passes her in the mess. "What's with the hat?"

"Early present from Ash for this human festival coming up," he says, opening the fridge.

"Christmas?" James suggests. Garrus nods, and James adds, "Did she have much stuff left over?"

"Yeah, she bought too much - tinsel?" he says, trying to remember the name of the sparkly garland, and James nods. "And some of the smaller things. I think she said she'd bring a crate down later."

"Cool, thanks," says James. "Did she have any mistletoe?"

"Huh?"

"A plant with white berries," James explains. Garrus gives him a blank look. "Never mind."

"Does the hat mean something?" Tali asks with interest.

"Apparently it's the hat of a mythical information broker named Santa Claus," he says, and finally emerges with a can of Tupari. Whoever keeps hiding it behind all the levo drinks needs to stop.

"Whoa," says James, looking like he's trying not to laugh. "She told you Santa's an information broker?"

He wasn't actually _done_ with his explanation for Tali. Garrus draws his mandibles together. "She didn't _say_ it, but come on, he sees you when you're sleeping and he knows when you're awake. He obviously has quite the spy network."

James bursts out laughing.

"He knows if you've been bad or good," Garrus continues, looking pointedly at Tali as he opens his drink. "And he gives the information to toymakers."

"Ay, you've gotta stop viewing the old stories through space age eyes," James advises. "I'm pretty sure Santa used magic or something, not a spy network, and bugs and security cameras weren't invented yet."

Garrus sips on his Tupari. "I'm sorry, what 'space age' are you talking about? Because _my_ species has been in space since before the Rachni Wars."

"Have you and Garrus ever taken an elevator together?" Tali asks James out of nowhere.

"Yeah," says James. "Awkward as hell."

" _Anyway_ ," says Garrus, adjusting his hat. "Santa Claus watches the behavior of children who celebrate Christmas, and brings the good ones toys and the bad ones coal."

"So are you going to use the Shadow Broker network to spy on children?" Tali inquires.

"You guys both suck," says James. "People just wear Santa hats at Christmas to get into the spirit. We're giving presents already so it's kinda like Santa."

"I'm wearing it because it makes Ash smile," Garrus confesses, and Tali chuckles in her helmet.

"I'm glad you two finally got together," she says, after looking around to check no one who doesn't know is in earshot. "Keelah, you're so annoying when you're pining."

"Wait," he says. " _What_? The only times I ever talked about her last year were when someone else, usually _you_ , brought her up."

"Ash gets _depressing_ ," James informs Tali. "Makes me want to punch him just thinking about it."

He sighs. "I really thought we were over this."

"Just keeping you on your toes, cabrón."

> **Someday at Christmas**

He's never sure how much Alliance protocol he should be following, serving on one of their ships without being Alliance himself. After asking EDI for the official Alliance form and tripping on the required details he simply doesn't have, he eventually settles for a quick ``  
Can I be off duty Dec 24 and 25 (Terran Coordinated)?  
e-mail to Shepard.

She calls him immediately. " _Christmas?_ "

"How'd you guess?" he asks rhetorically.

" _Ash put in her off duty request a month ago and Cortez, Joker, and James have been slowly following suit,_ " she says. " _And she's also asked if we can hit the Citadel around GST Christmas._ "

"She hasn't had Christmas with her family in years," he explains.

" _You know I can't guarantee that,_ " she says gently.

"I know," he says. "I don't think she _expects_ it. And just having the day off would be nice."

" _Okay,_ " says Shepard. " _You've got your days, since this is literally the first time you've ever asked me for time off._ "

"Turians aren't good at shore leave," he says.

" _Start learning, because the_ Normandy _'s being ordered into dry dock and Hackett's putting us on shore leave._ "

"Can he even _do_ that?" Garrus ponders. "Half the squad isn't even human, let alone Alliance."

" _You and Liara are dating Alliance; that's close enough for me. I'm sure your girlfriend will have some stories for you about military wives._ "

"My _partner_ does -"

" _Oh, you've had an upgrade!_ "

"- but I'm also military," he objects. They _have_ had an upgrade, but he's suddenly wondering how their relationship will work once he no longer has the excuse of a galaxy-wide threat and a multi-species mission. For some reason, it hasn't been a concern until this moment.

Oblivious to his dilemma, Shepard laughs. " _Figure out shore leave, Garrus. And enjoy your first Christmas._ "

He pauses before hanging up. "Do you celebrate Christmas, Shepard?"

" _Kinda hard to get people presents on the street,_ " she says.

Oh, _right_. "What about in the Alliance?"

" _Sometimes,_ " she says.

Reopening his messaging app, he texts Ashley, `We're getting a present for Shepard.` then says out loud, "Well. I'm sure Ash will let you join in if you want."

`Um, of course,` she texts back. `She's saved my life three major times now and more everyday times than I can count, I'm a little mad at myself for not getting her anything before.`

" _We'll see on the day,_ " says Shepard.

"Thanks again."

" _Ask for time off more often,_ " she retorts, and hangs up.

> **The Christmas Song Song**

Garrus is so focused on his visor that he doesn't notice Ashley enter the room until she's bending down to kiss his cheek.

"Oh, hi," he says, surprised, and he pulls her onto his lap for a proper greeting kiss, short but sweet.

"Hey, you," she says, smiling. "Have I ever told you that I like that look on your face when you're concentrating?"

He blinks. "You haven't. Thanks."

She grins, and taps at his omni-tool to project a screen instead of going straight to visor. "What are you working on?"

Damn, he'd been waiting until it was ready to tell her. "Christmas playlist," he says. "You mentioned music that first time you told me about Christmas, so I researched. Although I've noticed some are more about cold weather than about either the religious or secular aspects you mentioned to me -"

"Oh, no, those are _not_ going in your playlist," she says immediately, scrolling through the track listing. "Mom and I used to argue about it when I was a kid: Most of the colonies I grew up on were in the southern hemispheres of their planets, so Christmas was usually a summer thing for me. Even Mom grew up in the tropics, so I have no idea why she likes 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' so much. No winter songs for the Williams Vakarian Christmas."

"Is that hyphenated like Sarah's surname?" he asks without thinking, and then wants to kick himself even before she goes very still, her eyes staying on the omni-tool screen. If only she'd _say_ something when he skims the subject of marriage like this, instead of leaving him wondering what she thinks of his thinking about it.

Of course, all he says is a quiet, "No winter songs."

It takes a moment more before she goes back to poking at his playlist. "And minimal dance remixes. Listen to the songs in their more traditional forms first."

"But it's so much more satisfying shooting things to a good beat," he protests.

"A Christmas combat playlist," she says, shaking her head. "Now there's two words that shouldn't be going together."

Leaning in, he nuzzles her hair. "A Williams and a turian shouldn't have gone together either, but that's working out pretty well."

"It really is," she says, and she turns around to kiss him.

(He doesn't finish the playlist that evening.)

> **Santa Baby**

"It seems weird to be buying people presents when there's a war on," he says. It hadn't occurred to him on the _Normandy_ , but now that they're back on the Citadel, all the cheery music and sales in the human-targeted stores they're going to are uncomfortably reminding him of the way Sovereign's attack had been brushed off three years ago. At least the Silversun Strip had been full of off duty soldiers still talking shop.

Ashley chuckles. "What did you tell me in an elevator once? Civilians never think the enemy is coming -"

"Until they're taking over the station," he says, changing his old line as they pass a member of the Citadel Defense Force civilian militia. At least Cerberus woke up the Citadel a little. "And that's civilians. _We're_ military, and we're worrying about ordinary business."

She smiles grimly. "I'm worried about both," she says. "I'm getting Sarah and Lynn pistol stabilizers and ultralight materials. An emergency kit for Mom. And I managed to pull some strings with the multi-species N7 Special Ops requisitions to get Abby a Shadow Infiltrator sword."

His mandibles flare. " _Nice_. I still have no idea what to get them." It's the main reason they're wandering the Citadel stores instead of going straight to her favorite stores on the Commons.

"We're a refugee family," she says, making a face. "I know they're pretty much set up with the basics now, but Sarah could probably use some new stuff for school, and money's been tight enough that they'd probably all appreciate a bit of fun or pampering."

"My idea of fun is modding a rifle," he points out. "And my idea of pampering..."

He lets his eyes linger on her mouth. For a moment, she's confused, and then her eyes widen and she glances around before replying, " _Not_ that kind of pampering. I know you like your research, Vakarian, even if you don't like asking me for shopping lists."

"Actually, you wouldn't believe how many 'gift ideas for your human - squadmate's family' lists I've read," he says. _He_ can barely believe it. "You've just helped me narrow it down."

"If you still don't have anything by the end of the day, I'll say my presents are from you too, and you can pay me half later," she says generously.

There's a thought. "Can we put both our names on them anyway? Less 'Ash likes war and Garrus likes fun' divide that way."

"Genius," she proclaims. "Though Ash does not _like_ war; Ash is just very worried."

"This one is just as worried about his own family," he says lightly, but she frowns in sympathy and squeezes his hand. It's enough, he decides, squeezing back. At least for today. After all, she didn't even look around first.

"I'm praying for them," she says quietly, letting go of his hand.

He never used to understand prayers from religious coworkers at C-Sec, but the older he gets, the more he appreciates appeals to one's highest power over _I'm sure they'll be okay_ platitudes. "Thanks."

She glances up at him, her gaze going thoughtful. "My family always does something for charity at Christmas..." She pauses, and then asks, "What do the turian refugees need?"

For a long moment, all he can do is stare at her. " _This_ turian needs to find a restroom or something so I can show you some affection, or else I'm going to do it anyway and tell the Alliance it was our evil clones."

Chuckling, she shakes her head. "That wasn't an answer."

He splays his mandibles, not wanting to push his luck on the affection front after she actually held his hand in public. "I'd have to doublecheck with Tacita. I've been dealing more with the fleets recently."

"Okay," she says. "You go do that, while I pick up your present and get it back to the ship."

"I don't have to 'go' anywhere," he says. "There are these things called omni-tools."

With a grin, she swats his arm. "If you're just trying to come with me to see your present, nice try."

"I don't care about the gift," he says honestly. "I just like hanging out with you."

Her smile softens, but she still pulls away from him. "I'm _going_."

A few metres away, he notices her tap at her omni-tool, and his own lights up only a moment later: `Love you x`

"You too," he calls after her.

> **All I Want for Christmas is You**

Garrus checks off another name on his list, and stares at the last name left: Ashley. It feels like as the person he knows the best, she should have been the easiest, yet she's also where he most wants to get it right. Though he's decided to take her hint for her family as a hint about her too, 'something not war related' still leaves a world of possibilities.

He's not exactly thinking when he wanders into a human jewelry store, the sale sign drawing him in before he realizes what the store is, but once he's inside, it's all he can think about. He catches the eye of the human shopkeeper, and for a moment both of them simply stare at each other like pyjaks in headlights, but she recovers first with professionalism that's wasted in retail and would have done well in the military.

"Hi, do you need help with anything today?"

"Actually," he says, still remembering how words work; he'd expected more time looking around before he had to talk to someone about his half-formed ideas. "Yes. I'm... looking for a Christmas present for my human partner."

"What gender?" she asks, without missing a beat.

"Female," he says, and then admits: "I usually only see her wearing her tags at most; I'm not really sure what I'm doing here."

"Ah, military woman," she says. "They can be tricky. What's your budget?"

He names a number, and after eliminating earrings ("does she have pierced ears?" "what do you mean?" "like mine." "humans poke holes in their ears for _jewelry_??" "I'm gonna take that as a no"), rings, and bracelets ("she usually wears gloves, if not greaves"), they settle on a pendant.

"We'll attach a bail big enough for Alliance standard chains, so if she wants to wear it in the field, she can hang it with her tags," says - Dindin, according to her name badge, and he hasn't been so grateful to a stranger since Ashley was in hospital.

She asks about his partner's coloring, and, realizing that Ashley wouldn't appreciate his telling a stranger about their relationship, he brings up a photo of Abby, who thankfully has the same coloring as her older sister if different features. She asks about colors she likes to wear, and he says blue, and adds pink and white as an afterthought, remembering how she's mentioned she sometimes misses her Phoenix armor. She asks when her birthday is, which seems utterly irrelevant, but he says April, by the Terran Coordinated calendar. She asks about any other jewelry she wears, and he suddenly remembers the two necklaces she'd worn to the casino.

"I don't think she feels she's allowed to be feminine," he finds himself saying. "She was in hospital earlier this year, and only her sister and I got her flowers - she thought people see her as a soldier who wouldn't want something that girly, but as far as I can tell, she didn't actually tell anyone she wanted them."

"I get a lot of Alliance women in here wanting to feel like a woman again," Dindin says, flicking through the terminal catalogue. "It's sweet of you to preempt that. Now, how about this?"

He stares at the screen. "The shape's a little weird," he says. "But I like the colors."

"Okay, we've got our metal and stones," she says. "That's yellow gold on the setting, bail, and chain. The blue stones are sapphires, and the clear ones are diamonds, her birthstone."

"What's a birthstone?"

"Some human traditions assign gem stones to each month." He must still look bewildered, because she chuckles. "Come on, you've probably got some turian concept that would sound completely strange to me."

"We've been learning a lot about each other's cultures but she's never mentioned birthstones," he says, and briefly wonders what his would be.

"If she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, no wonder," she says.

In the time it takes him to decide on a flower pendant with tiny sapphire petals surrounding a small diamond, Ashley texts him saying she's done and wanting to know where he is. `Secret,` he texts back, before returning his attention to the shopkeeper.

"I think you've made a beautiful choice," she says, pouring a thin chain into a little jewelry box before setting a cushion and the pendant on top. "Now, was there anything else I can help you with today?"

Garrus hesitates, then decides to go for it before he can lose his nerve. "I'm thinking about proposing," he admits, the first time he's said it out loud. "I don't know if I want to actually buy a ring today, especially because I don't know her size, but I want to start looking."

"Oh, I _love_ helping out with proposals," she says, all but bouncing over to the rings. "This is our engagement section..."

` You pyjak,` Ashley texts him, making him grin. `Did you find out what the refugees need?`

`Meds for malnutrition, exposure, etc,` he replies. `Food.`

He manages to look at several rings before _Tacita_ sends him a selfie with Ashley in their camp. Dindin's grinning at him knowingly when he looks back up at her.

"Is that her?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry - I used to work a lot with the turian refugees, and she's trying to find a way to help them out for Christmas, but I think she's talking to the right person now. Anyway, back to the rings..."

He's dithering between a few different styles when he hears his own name from outside and turns around to find Shepard squinting at him in confusion as she enters the store.

"What are you doing here?"

"Shopping," he states the obvious. "Christmas present for my girl, and, uh -" On impulse, he indicates a ring he's been leaning towards. "You're human. If Liara asked you that question, would you say yes?"

"A little racist there, buddy," Shepard says dryly, before she looks at the ring, and then her eyes widen. "Are you going to propose to her?"

"I'm thinking about it," he says, and somehow telling his best friend makes it more real than telling a shopkeeper.

"Shit," she breathes. "It's a nice ring, sure, but is it really a good idea?"

"I'm still deciding on that part," he confesses.

"You're still hiding your relationship from half the crew, and pretty much the rest of the galaxy."

And there's one of the major reasons he hasn't made his mind up. Marriage makes their relationship more official and _on record_ than it is at the moment, and deep down, he suspects she wouldn't be able to handle that.

"You're in a secret relationship?" says Dindin, her eyes wide. "That's _so romantic_."

"You _would_ think that," says Shepard. "You're getting paid to sell him that ring."

"No, really!" she says. " _Fleet and Flotilla_ , _Vaenia_... It's all beautiful."

He looks down at the ring. _Fleet and Flotilla_ had always seemed romantic to him too, before he ended up starring in his own personal _Fleet and Frigate_ , and he learned that secret keeping's more draining than he'd ever assumed from keeping intel classified in the military or at C-Sec. It's worth it, of course it's worth it, but there's no beauty in it.

"Garrus," Shepard says, touching his arm. "I'm not going to tell you whether you should propose or not, that's up to you, but is this how turians propose?"

"No," he admits. They'd need both their families in one place for that.

"I'm guessing from your even doing Christmas in the first place that you guys are into learning about each other's cultures," she says. "So if you're going to propose, do something that's human _and_ turian."

He'd thought about that back when proposing had first occurred to him, but with the war making some of the Apien traditions impossible for the time being, he'd latched onto the human ones (looking up traditions for every culture she's namedropped so far) as more doable under current conditions. Maybe his first instinct was right after all.

"Thanks, Shepard," he says.

"Don't mention it," Shepard says, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll meet you back on the ship - don't go deciding in a hurry."

"See you," he says, as she leaves.

"Oh my word," says Dindin, staring after her. "Was that _the_ Commander Shepard?"

"Yup," he says, and suddenly he finds himself grateful that of the alien women in his life, he fell for Ashley and not the first human Spectre and Savior of the Citadel. Dating the more recognizable human Spectre would have come with a different kind of scrutiny, not to mention more interruptions with requests for help. "Sorry - the jewelry."

"Oh, of course," she says quickly. "Have you decided?"

> **My Grown-Up Christmas List**

After Thessia, it feels even more inappropriate to be playing around with presents than it did to buy them. His crate of presents sits mostly ignored in the battery for days, except for the jewelry for Ashley, which he keeps hidden in a compartment of his armor (they usually only handle each other's armor when they're taking it off). Ashley barely touches her own crates of shopping either, until as the _Normandy_ takes off from Horizon, they finally make it a point to spend an evening of their increasingly rare downtime together wrapping their presents to his Christmas playlist.

("You've avoided me all day," she says. "I know I screwed up on this planet, and I'm sorry. Let's make something good out of this day, together.")

He's not surprised that they make as efficient a team gift wrapping as they do in the field. He sorts them by person and then cuts the wrapping paper and ribbon with a bare talon and an eye for measurements; she folds and tapes neater than he can usually manage.

(Dindin gave him a gift bag, which is folded flat beneath a precarious looking pile of datapads Ashley avoids touching.)

"For someone whose idea of fun ties into war, you really went for extracurricular presents," she says. The vast majority of her gifts are for field use.

"You inspired me," he says, and only realizes from the surprised but quietly delighted look on her face what that sounds like. Best not to specify the presents, then.

He labels his own presents (besides the Williams women, he got gifts for the squad, Joker, and Chakwas), then cuts out enough labels for the remaining gifts. Eventually she catches up and swipes the pen from him, tagging her own gifts and then pausing before those for her family.

"You okay?" he checks. Second thoughts about gifting together, maybe - he'd be okay if she decides to go solo on them after all.

"Name order," she says.

"It's your family," he says. "I think you should go first."

"Yeah," she says, uncapping the pen again. "I was thinking alphabetical."

"Huh," he says, watching her write _from Ashley and Garrus_ on the labels for her family's presents. " _Garrus_ comes before the transliteration of _Ashley_ in Apien."

She chuckles and shakes her head, but he can't stop watching her write. Although he signed the card on the stones for his old turian friend who was injured in the coup with _from Garrus and Ashley_ , it means more, somehow, to see _her_ acknowledging their relationship.

"I'm gonna turn off my written translator for a second," he says. "I want to learn how to write your name."

"Only if you teach me how to write yours," she says, glancing up at him.

"Deal."

Far from only learning her name in the Latin alphabet, he also learns the transliteration of his own, and vice versa. Her scrawling looks like it was done by a five-year-old, and he can only imagine how his must look, but watching her trying so hard to manage one of the basics of his life means more to him than her Apien penmanship.

"I really love you, you know," he says, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She makes a pleased sound, and leans on the cowl of his armor. "Right back at you."

> **I'll Be Home for Christmas**

The Novena starts right as Shepard starts getting really into investigating this Leviathan thing. Night after night, Ashley and Steve read from a prayer book passed back and forth in her room, with other crew members attending some nights just to see what's going on. James joins in most frequently despite claiming it's not his people's thing, but Garrus stays every night. Their relationship must be obvious, he thinks. Not even Tali, who calls Ashley "her alien sister", attends as often.

(One night Javik comes along, and Garrus pulls him aside. "You don't even _like_ Ash," he says. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing what keeps her fighting," says Javik, and he abruptly realizes that Javik must have traditions too, but no one to perform them with, and unlike Ashley, he's not sharing them with anyone else.

He lets him stay.)

The closer it gets to Christmas and the further away from the Citadel they get, the antsier Ashley gets. Probably noticing this, Shepard sends her down to Chalkhos to investigate a distress signal, then later makes the unusual move of joining him in the shuttle bay to anxiously await her shore party's return.

"What's going on?" he asks. Ashley's a good leader, especially with people like James and Tali who listen to her.

"I've got some bad news for Ash," says Shepard. "But I want to tell her in person, and as soon as she gets back."

He narrows his eyes, and repeats, "What's going on?"

Shepard shakes her head. Naturally, he spends the entire wait coming up with escalating worst case scenarios.

Once the shore party returns with a Husk Neural Map, Shepard takes Ashley's debriefing in the shuttle bay, and then says, "Ash - I checked the calendars. We're not gonna make it back to the Citadel for Galactic Standard Christmas."

He could punch her for the way Ashley's face falls, but his partner comes before petty revenge. Ashley simply stares at her for a moment, then takes a deep breath and nods. "I understand, Commander. Permission to be dismissed?"

"Permission granted."

She glances at James. After he nods, she hands off her guns, then stalks off to the elevator. As Garrus starts to follow her, Shepard grabs his arm. "Is she gonna be okay?"

He shakes her off. "Yes, no thanks to you."

"I told her when she asked that I couldn't promise that -"

"She knows that, but damnit, Shepard, I'm not sure she thinks we're going to make it," he bursts out. "She might have thought this would be her last Christmas - of course she wanted to spend it with her family."

Shepard winces. "Tell her I'm sorry."

He allows himself the small satisfaction of not answering her, but still relays, "Shepard says sorry," once he finds Ashley staring blankly out her window.

"I don't want to talk about Shepard," she says as he sits down next to her.

"Me neither," he admits. "Did you call your family?"

She nods. "Mom's disappointed, but she's used to it," she says with a sigh. "She was learning to make, what's it called, that meat dish you like with the green sauce? She thinks she'll bring it to Aina now instead."

It's been so long since he's had a homecooked meal instead of military rations or takeout that he would have happily eaten one made by a human. Instead, his old C-Sec friend who's training Ashley's baby sister in pistols gets to enjoy it instead. "Ah."

At last, she turns to him, her expression still hurt and angry. "Remind me why I'm here. Why I'm doing this."

"You're here so everyone can celebrate what they want to with their families. So people can _live_."

She climbs onto his lap, straddling him. "Remind me what living feels like."

Ah. _That's_ what she wants. "It feels like this," he says, and kisses her, his hands going for the seals of her armor.

Later, she shifts in his arms, and he stops stroking her hair for a moment when she lifts her head to give him an achingly honest look. "I'm also a little bit here for you."

"Mm," he says contentedly. "You asked to come back onboard because you knew you could get laid whenever you want, the way you like here."

She leans up just enough to kiss his nose. "I was being serious."

He'd _hoped_ she was, but he hadn't entirely expected it. Touched, he resumes playing with her hair, and admits, "So am I. A little bit here for you, I mean."

Ashley looks bemused. "I wasn't even here yet when you came back."

"No, but I knew I'd have a better chance of seeing you out in the galaxy than on Menae."

There's something so beautiful about the way she gazes at him after he says it that he almost wants to reach for his omni-tool and take a picture, _definitely_ wants to see it on her again.

So of course, he fumbles it. "It wasn't the deciding factor. I knew it was still a tiny chance, and I had no idea if you'd still be interested, but -"

She kisses him, long and sweet and languid, her earlier expression physicalized.

"How did I get so lucky?" she whispers. "All the crap in the galaxy, in my _life_ \- how did you happen to me?"

"I wonder the same thing every day," he says. "Maybe we used most of our good luck on each other."

Her chuckle's a little bitter as she lays her head back onto his chest, cheek to his plates. "Yeah. I should have known Christmas wouldn't work out."

"I _am_ sorry," he says. "Feeling better than before, at least?"

"If you mean I don't want to throw Shepard across the shuttle bay any more, then yeah," she says. "At least the boys and I made contingency plans for if we couldn't make it back."

"Yeah?"

"I've livestreamed mass before," she says. "And we were thinking of wasting some rations and having a meal at midnight over Christmas Eve - Cortez says we've got some extra levo bacon, since we can't do a ham, let alone a whole pig, but for you..."

Ashley pointedly avoids his gaze, her fingers going still on his arm. Not for the first time, he wishes that something as everyday as _food_ wasn't this huge difference between them.

"It's okay," he says quickly. "I have another box of chocolate from Dr. Michel to get through, anyway."

She glances up at him with an eyebrow raised, and he remembers why he hasn't mentioned this earlier. "She's still getting you chocolate?"

"I've told her I'm seeing someone," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "Multiple times. But she said she was just boosting soldiers' morale."

"When was this?"

"When I dropped you off for your last physio appointment," he says. "She ambushed me on my way out."

"Garrus Vakarian," she drawls. "Big, badass Reaper Adviser with command over the turian fleets. Former Archangel of Omega. Took down three Reapers. Can't stand up to a human doctor."

He laughs too hard to be offended. "You're mean."

"Can't stand up to a human soldier, either," she says, grinning, but she follows it up with a headbutt.

> **Underneath the Tree**

It's nice not needing to set an alarm clock, especially after watching a church service and then eating with Ashley, James, Steve, and a few of the other curious crewmembers at midnight the night before. (James had gleefully mocked him about Dr. Michel, especially after learning her crush on him started three years ago.)

It's even nicer waking up with Ashley in their little nest of blankets on her floor, the lights on the ceiling and her Christmas tree twinkling above them. One day, he thinks, untangling his arms from the blankets, Ashley is going to be okay with other people knowing about them, and they are going to have a bed in her room that's big enough for both of them together. His cot in the battery is only barely big enough for both of them to have a little rolling room, the floor is apparently the one thing Cerberus didn't think to make comfortable, and someone (usually Ashley) inevitably falls off the couches in her room when they try to share one. Surely her getting over this hangup and getting a real bed is more likely than the Reapers learning to love.

It has to be.

He puts on his omni-tool and one glove, gives Ashley a feather-light headbutt, and triages three-quarters of his unread e-mail before she stirs and says, "Mrgh."

(Maybe 'says' is too strong a word.)

"Good morning to you too," he says, putting his omni-tool to sleep. "And merry Christmas."

"Should've asked you to program your omni-tool in festive colors," she mumbles.

He considers, and then wakes his omni-tool and taps at it until it's projecting Christmas imagery, albeit still tinged in the default orange.

She grins up at the projections. "We should've gotten into a Christmas lights fight with James. We would've won."

"You didn't tell me there are traditional Christmas _fights_ ," he says, too delighted by the idea to be really accusatory.

"Competitions," she says wryly. "Bad word choice."

"You just ruined Christmas for me," he says, drawing his mandibles, and Ashley stares at him for a moment before realizing he's joking and shaking her head. "But it's okay. Look, I already found my present."

He reaches for the zip of her hoodie and slowly starts pulling it down. "I get to unwrap it now, right?"

Giggling, she attempts to untangle herself from the blankets, and eventually resorts to taking them with her when she gets up and goes to the Christmas tree, leaving him freezing. After a moment of rifling around under it, she tosses him a small box. "Don't be silly. _This_ is your present."

It's the same size as the small jewelry box the shopkeeper had put her pendant in, but not as heavy. Curious, he shreds the wrapping paper and opens the box to find two OSDs. "Removable memory?"

"They're both loaded," she says, returning with the blankets and snuggling into his side (he immediately pulls both her and the blankets closer). "Although one of them's actually for your hardsuit."

He slots them both into his omni-tool, and his eyes widen when one of them automatically opens his music player. "You made me a playlist."

"I made you two playlists," she confirms, looking up at him shyly. "Of songs with lyrics about us, or songs that remind me of you. The second one's just remixes so you can blast them in firefights, but we don't exactly have the same taste, so... I hope you like it."

Without even listening to it yet, he's already touched by her attempt at his one real hobby. He kisses her soundly, then rests his forehead against hers. "I know I will."

"Don't say that until you've listened to it," she warns him, though she's smiling. "But check the other OSD first."

He switches windows, flicking through the undescriptive file names until he finds the info document for an `N7 Responder Loadout`.

"N7 programs," he says, looking up from the details of the shield and medi-gel dispenser optimization. "You got me N7 programs."

"Not real N7 like Shepard and maybe James," she says quickly. "The multi-species N7 Special Ops."

"Like Abby's sword," he realizes. She'd had to go pick this up - must have been part of her pulling strings with N7 requisitions.

"Yeah, except this was a lot easier to get," she says. He sees her stroke the scars on his neck more than he really feels it, and then she kisses his jaw. "I just... want to keep you safe."

He raises her hand so he can kiss the scar inside her wrist. How strange that months later, their scars don't hurt any more, except for in each other's hearts. "Thank you. For everything. If anything, I think these _prove_ that you're my real present."

"I _am_ kind of a gift to be around," she says thoughtfully.

"I told you."

She takes the box from him and sets it aside, then wraps her arms around his neck and headbutts him, pressing close to his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmurs, touching her face with his ungloved hand.

For a moment, he allows himself to enjoy simply being with her, being able to hold her like this, something he suspects he'll never be able to take for granted. Then he moves the blankets aside ( _cold_ ) and goes to the tree. "But I have a gift for you too," he says, returning with the gift bag.

She looks at the jewelry store branding on the side, then looks up at him equal parts curious and wary. "Are you..."

"No," he says quickly.

She takes the bag and says, "Okay," sounding relieved but looking a little disappointed as she pulls out the tiny box.

He pauses. "Did you want me to?"

Her gaze drops to the box. "It's not the right time," she says. "It'd feel like we're only doing it because of the war. I'd want something like Sarah's with lots of family, and I haven't even met yours. And I'm still not at the point where I can say I love you in public, let alone in uniform."

"Did you want me to?" he repeats, because he agrees, but that wasn't a yes _or_ a no.

She looks up at him, thoughtful. "I don't have to be an ex-detective to catch the hints you've dropped," she says. "I've been thinking about it - about you thinking about it. And I didn't _want_ it, but I would have liked it. But I would have said no."

He nods. "Good to know," he says honestly.

"Did you want to?" she asks.

Stalling while he comes up with an answer, he cups her cheek in his hand and strokes a talon where her colony markings would be if she were turian. Eventually, he decides to admit, "I did. But like you said, it's not the right time. And I want to go turian-style as well as giving you a ring."

Ashley looks at her hands, then looks up at him almost shyly. "I look forward to _that_ cultural exchange."

"You know, I'm still working on this one," he says, his mandibles spreading as he gestures to the box. "Gonna open your Christmas present?"

"Oh my god," she says, chuckling, and finally, she opens it. Her eyes widen. "Garrus, I... It's beautiful."

"I just thought, you don't seem to have much of your own that isn't for the war," he says. "A few books, that dress, a couple of necklaces, your less supportive underwear. I thought you might want something pretty. Like you."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not the pretty one in my family," she says, but she's smiling as she headbutts him. "I love it. Thank you."

"There's a chain under the cushion," he says. "Or you can wear it with your tags."

Immediately, she draws back to undo the chain of her tags, then threads on the new pendant and holds it out to him. "Do the honors?"

He takes the chain, surprised to be holding her tags without her wearing them, then, after she turns around and holds her hair up, fastens the clasp at the back of her neck. Before she can drop her hands, he takes her wrist to stop her and kisses her neck, just above the chain.

"Garrus," she says, mostly a warning, but with a little desire.

His mouth on her neck's one of her weaknesses, he's long realized. It makes him smile. "Ash," he replies in a poor impression of her tone, albeit at one of those lower pitches she likes.

She whimpers as he trails his mouth around her neck, moaning at the occasional graze of his teeth against her skin, then turns around and lies down, pulling him on top of her for a long, slow kiss. With one hand he finds the necklace and her tags in her cleavage, and she puts her hand over his.

"I'm yours," she whispers, and she doesn't need subharmonics for him to understand that she means something along the lines of _even without a ring_.

That's what makes him feel better about his decision not to propose and learning that she would have turned him down. His heart swells, and he repeats back, "I'm yours."

He's never sure later how long it is before they're tangled together naked in the afterglow on one of the sofas, their pajamas on the floor with the blankets, and Ashley announces, "I liked that top."

Her tank top's ripped down the middle from a rare moment where he wasn't thinking to be careful. "Mm. Sorry." Not that he regrets it.

"You're getting me another one on Boxing Day."

"Another gift giving holiday?" he asks, nuzzling her shoulder. They're barely through this one.

Chuckling, Ashley runs her fingers over his fringe. "The day after Christmas. Retail sale day, but the sales usually continue until New Year. When everyone starts returning their unwanted gifts to the stores and spending their gift money."

"This festival is so _commercial_ ," he says, genuinely impressed. Especially for something with a religious origin.

"Hey, some of us handle our own finances instead of leaving it to the volus," she says teasingly.

He's too content to correct her. Instead, he trails his hand down her hip and then around to the inside of her leg. "I know what I'm not leaving to the volus," he says, slowly skimming his talons up her thigh. "Do people ever spend the whole day in bed for Christmas?"

She grins, but covers his hand just as he's about to touch where she's still wet. "Probably. But we're not going to. You are not the only one on the ship I have presents for."

He leans in. "One more round," he says, and kisses her before she can reply.

> **Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**

When they finally make it down to the shuttle bay, James is wearing a similar hat to his Santa one, albeit with a bell on the end instead of a pompom.

"Feliz Navidad!" James yells across the bay, and Ashley says it back on her way over for a hug that turns into him lifting and spinning her around. The easy affection between them used to make him jealous, more because she's open about it than because of any interest she might have had in James, but now it just makes him smile. He's glad she has such a good friend.

He and Ashley give James their presents and watch him open them, then James gives one to Ashley and they watch her open that (more hugging is involved). The surprise is when James turns to him with another gift bag.

"Hey, merry Christmas, Garrus."

He blinks. He's in this for Ashley; he wasn't expecting anything from anyone else. "Thanks."

James isn't even the only one who gives him a present: Joker and Chakwas both follow suit, Tali makes him a dextro drink they both like out of her triple filtered stash which he's usually banned from, Liara sends him intel for the fleets with a `merry Christmas` in the message.

Shepard, however, looks shocked and overwhelmed when they turn up at her cabin door with gifts.

"Oh, no, guys, I can't accept these - I didn't get you two anything -"

"Are you kidding me?" says Ashley. "You've saved my life more times than I can count and you think you haven't given me a present?"

"It's not even just that you've _saved_ mine," he says. "You gave me my life _back_."

"You plucked me out of crappy garrisons and into this weird, _amazing_ life where we might be at war, but my name is _respected_ , I'm the second human Spectre, and I have this gorgeous partner who loves me."

"Technically, that was Anderson," Shepard points out.

"I win," Garrus realizes, just as surprised by his victory as he is by Ashley complimenting his looks in front of someone.

Shepard shakes her head. "I can't believe you two just had a pissing contest about whose life was more improved by getting mixed up in all this."

"We owe you a lot more than a couple of Christmas presents, that's all we're saying," says Ashley.

"So open them," he adds.

She waves them into her cabin, then starts ripping into his present first as they sit on the couch. "Holy crap. Is this...?"

"The _Indomitable_ ," he confirms. In miniature form.

"The Miracle at Palaven," Ashley realizes.

He nods. "I thought you'd have fun assembling a ship whose claim to fame is because of you."

"Hold on," says Shepard. "Don't _you_ command the fleets?"

"I got given command _after_ the Miracle at Palaven," he says. "I _wish_ I came up with that counterattack; it was beautiful. But it only happened because you managed a turian-krogan alliance."

She headbutts him. "You were right there with me. But thanks - I've had a blank spot in my display case; I never did find my Athabasca."

"I'd noticed," he says. He'd looked for the freighter first, then decided on a slightly more meaningful model.

"My turn now," says Ashley, shoving her box forward.

Shepard laughs, and unwraps an advanced biotic amp model with the N7 insignia on the box.

"Ash," she says, confused. "How did _you_ get N7 gear? Aren't you an S1?"

"It's multi-species N7 Special Ops, not real N7, and I pulled some strings with their requisitions. You'll never guess who's in N7 training these days." Shepard gestures for her to continue, and she says, "DI Ellison."

"Oh my god!" exclaims Shepard. "You're still in contact with him?"

"Who?" asks Garrus.

"We had the same Drill Instructor for Hostile Environment Assault Training," Ashley says. "I always liked him - not once did he mention my grandfather."

Shepard waves the amp box happily. "Tell him thanks from me. I can't believe he's still kicking."

"He moved to N7 last year, and now he's doing Alliance op crash courses for the mercs and soldiers from other species," she says. "When he heard this one was for you, he said it was on him."

Garrus listens in bewilderment as they swap stories of their old DI (his translator fails him on several words), but he's able to rejoin the conversation as it turns to early military training in general. Soon enough, of course, they end up talking present day shop.

"I'm thinking Leviathan's _got_ to be in Psi Tophet," says Shepard. "Garrus, you want to come down with me when we get there?"

"Sure," he says. He hasn't been ashore in a good few days, and he wants to know that whatever compelled her to stay out in the Terminus Systems was worth it.

"You guys had better get your new gear installed before you head out," says Ashley. "Who knows what could be out there."

"Yes, _Mom_ ," says Shepard, leaning over to hug her. "Thank you - both of you, so much. I wasn't expecting anything."

"Now you know to expect something next Christmas," he says.

Ashley's smile looks a little wistful to him, but only for a moment. "Merry Christmas, Shepard."

> **Extraordinary Merry Christmas**

As they curl up in his cot that night, Garrus has to ask: "Did you have a good Christmas, Ash?"

For a moment, she's silent, and then she nods. "Yeah, I did. It wasn't exactly what I wanted to show you, but it was still good. What about you?"

"I liked it," he says honestly. He's not sure he gets the religious side, but he somewhat admires the strength of her faith. He preferred the other celebrations. "It was at home, with my second family - didn't have to worry about impressing your mom..."

She chuckles. "Hey, you're still seeing her whenever we finally get back to the Citadel."

"Damn," he says, not actually disappointed. Despite his lingering intimidation, he likes Mrs. Williams, likes seeing where Ashley got so much of what he loves about her. "Still, I'd say the Williams Vakarian Christmas was a success."

He holds up one hand for what the humans have called a high-five only for Kaidan to dub it a high-three on three fingered species, and she slaps her palm against his with a laugh.

"No hyphen, by the way."

"What?" he asks, partially distracted by lacing his fingers through hers.

"Our Christmas."

It takes him a moment, but once his eyes widen in understanding, it's not the Williams Vakarian Christmas he's thinking about as he headbutts her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand. It's their names, their titles, and _Garrus Williams Vakarian_ doesn't sound as weird in his head as he thought it might.

"I love you," he blurts out.

"I love you too," she says, smiling. "I'm so glad you liked Christmas."

"I liked the name, too," he says, finding her pendant with her tags.

Ashley studies him, then says, "Maybe after the war," and kisses him.

It's a maybe. She clearly doesn't want to talk about it right now, from the way she followed it up. But it's the first time he remembers her saying the phrase _after the war_ , and it may be the best gift she's given him today.

He just hopes things go this well when he introduces her to his own traditional festivals.

**Author's Note:**

> For a little more detail on aikido sister Sarah being trained in pistols and getting pistol mods for Christmas, see ["Juvenescence"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4947712), a Sarah-centric fic that's loosely but optionally in continuity with this universe. It's explained a little more in _Operational Security_.


End file.
